Colony 7
by hadau45
Summary: This isn't your normal zombie book. This is after the apocalypse, told through the mind of one of the last humans, and him also telling the haunting story of his past.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is my first story. Officially, I am actually writing it outside of FF, but decided to post it so I could get at least some form of input on it… Anyway, read on!**

**Chapter one**

January 15, 2025

It's hard to believe. Five years ago, the whole world was in a state of complete ignorance about the Plague. Now, everywhere you go, whispers of "Grunts," "Ships," and "Slammers" fill the air, saturating you with fear. Will there be another outbreak? Can we contain it better this time? If there is another, how will the world respond?

I'm writing this "diary" as part of my psyc eval. All of the people who went through the Plague have to have at least one psyc session. I think it's stupid. The only ones who survived were the crazy ones. The ones with paranoia, the predictors of the apocalypse, they were the ones who made it through, not only surviving, but thriving in the only world they understood.

Me? I'm anything but. A normal, suburban dwelling white kid, easy to pick on, easy to exploit. But I made it through. How? I had a little help. Now, I realize this whole notebook will be turned into the control, but I still have never liked lying. So the whole story, everything, is going in this thing provided by my "evaluator."

I'll start with the basics. My name is of no importance, you control idiots know it anyway. Before the Plague, I was form suburban New York. Now I live with all the rest of the lucky easterners, on colony 7 on the Pacific Ocean. 7, the lucky number. Also, the last number. Colonies 4, 5, 6, and 8 that were supposed to launch from the US are gone. In total, the human population of the world is considered to be less than a million.

If you're reading this and you're from the control, fuck you. I don't really care what happens after I get this all down, where at least someone can see it. To my "evaluator," thanks for nothing. Well, besides the medium to express my innermost thoughts. Yeah, right. Anyway, to all you normal humans out there, consider yourself lucky. Congratulations, let's all evolve into fish. Heh, maybe I am going a little mad. We'll begin this "past journal" as my evaluator calls it, from my beginnings.


	2. beginnings

**Okay, so hope you liked it so far. The story really doesn't have chapters, so you'll have to hang in there with me. These first few will be short.**

January 10, 2020

For those of you wondering how I know dates, I've always had a memory for details. It's the big things that escape me. Plus, five years isn't that much if you think about it.

This day was my first encounter with a z-head, unofficially known as a zed. The news had been abuzz recently about the high number of disappearances among populated areas, but nobody really had a clue. Remember, this was five days before the president's official "screw you all, we're leaving" announcement. Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly what he said, but that was the basic gist of it.

My encounter with the zed left me lucky to be fully alive. I was just walking home from school, just like the regular days. As a prospective doctor, I was going through a four year degree. This was my third year. I noticed something bleach white in the bushes. Stupidly, I walked over to it.

I was still on my way when the bushes started moving, and out popped my friend George. This was weird for two reasons. One, George had been missing for two days. Two, his right arm ended in bone. He was also covered in blood. At first, I thought it was a joke. Then, what used to be George moaned and jumped on me.

I was slammed to the ground and was scratched three times on the arm by the jagged bone of the zed's right arm. Thank god it didn't bite me before I pushed it off, or I would be moaning around somewhere myself. I staggered to my feet and looked for the nearest weapon. Before I could even respond, the zed charged again.

This time I was ready. Having been forced into Karate as a kid, I knew a bit about self-defense. I sidestepped the zed's initial lunge and kicked its non-bone arm as hard as I could. A crack shot through the air, and the zed wheeled around despite the fact its arm was hanging useless by its side. Regardless, it still came at me. Once again, I moved to the side.

Now, as anyone who has taken self-defense knows, there are two places on any man that can stop him. One is the balls. The other is the head. Considering a missing arm wasn't affecting this man-like object, I went for the head. My fist connected with another crack, and my knuckles screamed in pain. The thing hit the ground twitching, and I kicked it until that stopped.

I stood silently, looking around. This had been my first violent act towards another person. (Well, I thought it was a person) I realized there would be no evidence towards me, so I started walking away. As I moved, I caught a glimpse of something behind the bushes. It was a person, or what had been a person before the zed got to him. Eyes gouged out, stomach ripped open, skull cracked. I turned away and promptly hurled all over the sidewalk.

As I started stumbling away, a black car of some sort pulled up next to me. A rag was put over my face, and soon, despite my struggling, everything went dark.

**Hope it's good so far… amazing how short things can seem when you type them from a notebook. Comment if you can :)**


	3. colony 7

**So, just in case it gets too confusing: when it starts with a date, that is a journal entry. When it doesn't (like now) it is in current time. Peace!**

I looked up from my notebook. There was somebody banging on the door to my berth. I walked over and opened it. I was met with the cocked grin of my berthmate, Dean.

"Hey man, how's it goin'?" Dean bounded in and flopped down on the cot opposite me. He looked at what I was holding. "Hey, don't tell me…" He massaged his skull after closing his eyes, still grinning. "I see a psyc eval in your past!' He opened one eye and looked at me expectantly.

"Yeah, just today." I smiled. "They told me to write a diary of past events." I gestured at the notebook lying beside me. "I just figured I'd let them see my trials." Dean just continued grinning and lifted his head off the pillow.

"Hey, I just wrote 'blah blah blah fuck you all' and turned it in." He mimed the writing motions as he talked. He stopped and looked at the ceiling. "What are they going to do, fire me? You know they need every sane person working in the Department."

"And you're sane?" I countered. "I just decided to have a 'what the hell' moment." I grinned back at him. "Hey, wanna hit the bar?" Dean sighed and looked over to me, then up at the ceiling count, a running tally of how long we've been on this hulk of metal.

"I can't. They put me on graveyard patrol." He closed his eyes again. "I swear, they're trying to get me killed." I looked up at the count. Twenty-six bunches of five and three extra dashes.

"Hey, you haven't died yet." I looked at my notebook for a second.

"Yet." He sighed again. "I gotta grab my gear." He stood and stumbled to the closet, a short walk in the confines of our berth. He suited up in the standard zuit, and grabbed his gun. It was a modified hunting rife, modified to carry more of the low-cost nail slugs they were distributing nowadays. They hadn't dropped a resource drill for a while. I waved as he walked out the door.

I stuck my head out the door as he started to walk down the hallway and yelled a short "see ya" and slammed the hatch shut. Retreating back to my cot, I picked up the constantly-updating PDA that gave anything and everything we needed info-wise. No jobs until tomorrow, when I had crop care.

"Wonderful." I groaned and fell back on the cont, successfully stabbing myself in the back with my new pencil. I rolled over, picked up the notebook, and looked at my previous entries. It all seemed so corny, but I kept writing.

**Peace!**


	4. After the attack

**Wow, this is much shorter than I thought, but I'll keep going. Hopefully, this next part is longer.**

January 14, 2020

I woke strapped to a metal bed, an IV steadily filling the air with sound. Click, and beep, click, and beep. There was a mirror in front of me that I recognized as a one-way glass pane.

"Hey!" I struggled, screaming as loud as I could at the mirror in front of me. "Hey!" My voice was already cracking, but I continued anyway. "I have my rights! I can't just be strapped here! Let me out!"

"On the contrary son," A man had walked in. he was almost 6 feet tall by my estimation, and had a voice like gravel crunching under a semi. "You waived your rights by killing a semi-human. Operative 4573.83." He waved an official looking document before my face, and then put it away before I could get a good look at it.

"What?" I couldn't believe this guy. "He- it- was trying to kill me!"

"Sorry," The man shrugged and started to leave. "Just the way it is."

"Hey! Can you at least tell me why I'm strapped here?" I was just stalling as I attempted to work my way out of the straps that held me. It wasn't really working. The man just laughed, shrugged and left for real this time. I heard indistinct conversing outside the door.

"Come… On!" I struggled more. Groaning, I strained at the straps. Suddenly, the "click, beep" of the IV grew more intense and regular, and I felt groggy. I swung my head over and bit the tube leading into my arm. The rubbery plastic tasted like glue, then like medicine as I bit in further. I pulled and the tube slid out of my wrist and out of the binding.

The feeling of grogginess wavered and disappeared, and I realized alarms were going off. The slack of the tube no longer being attached to my arm in the strap allowed me to pull out one arm, then use that arm to free everything else. Aware of the blaring alarms all around me, I tried the door. It was locked.

"Duh!" I chided my self. Of course they would lock the door. However, they would also have to come in to get me strapped in again. I looked around for the camera. Seeing it in an upper corner, I smashed the thing. No covert options now.

Checking to make sure the door opened out, I waited for the thing to open. My wait was not in vain, and a man with a build like an NFL linebacker ran in, looking around the room.

"Where are you, you little-" His voice was cut off by my fist to the back of his head. I grabbed his weapon, ignored my throbbing fist for the second time today, and ran out the door. Moving as fast as I could, I barely noticed my surroundings. I was in some plain corridor, metal all the way down.

"Hey! You kid!" I turned. There were 5 people, crouched and in full body armor of some sort. All held a gun exactly like the one I had. "Surrender now and we won't kill you!"

"Okay! Sheesh!" I acted like I was putting the gun down.

"After you put it down, come slowly with your hands up!" This guy liked yelling.

"If you say so." I responding with throwing my gun towards the middle guy, the one with a fondness of exclamation points. Whirling, I ran around the corner.

Okay, so you probably are wondering what I was thinking. We were in a fully metal hallway. A full firefight would be deadly to anyone in it. Add this to my element of surprise and having probably 30 seconds of head start would mean the guards would have to be idiots to fire on me.

Guess what? The guards were idiots. After I was around the corner, the rattle of automatic weapon fire filled the air and echoed down the hall. Crouching, I covered my head with my hands. I realized about 10 seconds later the firing had stopped, my ears were ringing, and I had been shot three times in one arm.

Scrambling to my feet I ran the rest of the way, enventually hitting what looked like an exit. Slamming into it, I banged and bushed on it as hard as I could. Then, seeing the "pull" sign, pulled the handle. The door opened easily. I took in what was outside. A long, empty aisle of concrete. Then fog, fog, fog.

"Attention, all personell. We are on code black, I repeat, code black." A computerized voice was blaring loud enough to be heard above my damaged hearing out of hidden speakers. I hadn't heard any alerts inside. I wondered what "code black" was. Then, a bullet slammed into the ground beside me.

Running for any exit. That's all I did. Apparently, there were snipers everywhere. I was fired at more times than I could count. The journey to the gate seemed to take hours, when it probably only took about 30 seconds. All the while, bullets thumped the ground by me. After the eternity of running, I reached the gate.

"Hey!" I slammed on the gate and was promptly thrown back by some electrical field. "HEY!" The crack of bullets firing reminded me to keep moving. I noticed a tower to my right, and a crazy idea bloomed in my mind.

With even more bullets landing everywhere around me (you'd think the government snipers would be better shots) I ran into the guard tower to be met by a guy that was very surprised to have a door open into his face. I grapped the weapon form him and started running up the stairs.

At the top, the whole thing opened up, and the wind from this height ruffled past. I backed up, as far as I could, and then lept over the edge, propelling myself forward into space.

**Wow, much longer. Thanks for hanging with me this long peeps, and hopefully I can keep this trend going. Peace! H45**


	5. Personal Problems

**Mu-ha-ha! I love the ability to create an automatic cliff hanger, plus, it's freaking built in! HAHAHA! And you people can't do anything about it!**

"Attention bunkmate of –'Dean Dolach'-." The screen next to my bed lit up, and I put down the notebook. The recording of Dean's name alerted me. If he was calling, I should have a live feed.

"Your partner has pressed his urgent warning button. Please attempt retrieval. Remember to fully don the combat equipment provided to you." The screen went blank as did my mind. Dean? In trouble? The urgent warning was a direct link to the entire security sector of the Control. Even Dean wouldn't admit he needed help from one of them.

I grabbed my modified taser that I had built. It, unlike regular tasers, could be reused as long as it had a charge, and was designed to overload the bizarre new circuits of a Zed's brain. It could easily handle any Zed it I got a sustained charge on them, even a ship. Granted, a ship would probably drain the battery to nothing, but it could work.

I almost forgot to get my Zuit, what we called the bite-proof cam mesh that protected us during a Zed engagement. Running down the clanging, otherwise silent halls of the colony, I franticly checked the PDA for the location of Dean's broadcast. Three doors down. Berth 1273. I threw open the door.

The crash of metal door on metal wall alerted the room's three occupants. One was Dean. Two were moaning and lurching at me. I launched one taser shot and turned the thing to max, then ran over to Dean.

"Dean!" I looked him over. No bites, as far as I could see.

"There's… Two…" Dean moaned. I looked over my shoulder in time to have my arm bitten by the Zed that wasn't convulsing on the floor.

"AHHHH!" I smashed the thing in its face. It reeled back, then jumped at me. Dang! This one was fast! I shook it off again, and waited. Sure enough, it leapt at me again. I tried side stepping, but the thing's arm lashed out with inhuman speed and knocked me to the ground. I slid across the room. The Zed jumped back on me, and I held its snapping jaws away from my unprotected face. My head was slammed into something wooden. In a metal room, this was out of place.

I threw it off me, picked up Dean's rifle, leveled it at the Zed, and watched it turn to me.

The nail slug slammed into the Zed's face, spraying Zed bits all over the far wall. The power of the shot halted the Zed in mid-leap, and it fell lifeless to the ground a second later. The thudding of heavy feet in the hallway reminded me that the Control was to be here soon.

"Dean." I shook him and he grunted. "We gotta get out of here."

"Lemme get some more sleep…" he slurred, then fell over completely. That's when I noticed the blood in his hair, soaking from a bloody patch on the side of his head.

"Great." I groaned, lifting his spindly body, thin from months of rations on this ship. I ran out, nearly colliding with the full Zuited control of hall 200.

"Sir, you're going to need to leave your friend here, drop your weapon, and come with me." The Control officer was bulging with grafted muscle, and had his weapon leveled at my head.

"Okay." I put Dean down while thumbing the setting on my taser to low power. The great part about the Zuits: They conduct charges so well.

As the Control fell, I picked Dean up and started back to the berth. He didn't make a sound till I slammed him down on the metal bunk. Felling like a housewife, I cleaned the wound on his head, and bandaged it. Sitting back, I waited for the control to come knocking. It didn't take them long.

The sound of heavy knocking echoed in the enclosed space, and I was forced to yell "Coming!" much louder than I should have.

"No need." The magnetic lock clicked, and the door flew open, hitting the wall with a thunderous bang. Two control officers were behind it, holding weapons. I couldn't imagine why.

"What's up?" I held my arms out in an expression of futility.

"You have violated Colony procedure 1783, attacking a Control officer." The droning voice of the Control was only monotonic for a short while. He gained inflection during his next grunt, while he handcuffed me.

"Hey, common…"

"Shut up." The handcuffs shot a jolt through my arms and up my spine. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say-."

"Can and will be used against blah blah blah." I snorted. "I get the drillAUGH!" The handcuffs severely shocked me. "Hey, isn't this illegal?"

"Yeah, right." The Control grinned. "Nighty night."

"Hey! Wha-." The next jolt brought only blackness. Strange half memories of the Plague and of the Colony scampered through my head. These would be good for my journal.

"Augh!" I sat up. A strangely familiar metal room was surrounding me, and I was staring at myself in a mirror opposite me. I groaned and fell down. At least I wasn't strapped in this time.

With nothing to do but wait, I examined myself in the mirror. The stubble on my face indicated I had been out for a bit, maybe even a week. What kind of state was the Colony in if even prisoners were kept unconscious for days? I couldn't even bring myself to think about it.

I waited for about tem minutes before I got up again. I banged on the door shouting incomprehensible words, hoping for some response. It was successful. A man in a lab coat walked in calmly, shutting the door behind him.

"Hello." He smiled at me.

"Why are you holding me here? When can I go back?" I couldn't' put the questions into words fast enough. "Where-."

"Can you look at this card for me?" He interrupted me by holding up a card with a blot of ink on it . I groaned. I hated Roshak tests.

"Oh Doc!" I let my voice drip with sarcasm, changing to a high squeaky pitch. " I see Zeds ripping my friend's heads off!"

"Really." He took out a pad and wrote something down. He pulled a chair out of the corner and sat. I sat on my bed. He looked at me. The card was gone, but the pad was still out.

"Common, you should know that, of all things, was fake!" I was getting mad. These idiots already had my journal. They knew I was messed up.

"Would this change anything?" He handed me two things. One was my note book with the past journal contained in the pages. The other was an official Control information sheet. "I'll leave you to those." He stood to leave.

"Wait!" I tried to stop him, but the door slammed shut behind him. The journal was like it had teeth to me. The control sheet was a hideous fiend. "You have got to be kidding me." I picked up the pencil, the lesser of the two evils. I'd write, then look at that sheet.

**Comment! Peace, H45**


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